_Summer Provinces
by the Sea_
A description of the Vacation Resources of Eastern Quebec and the
Maritime Provinces of Canada, in the territory served by the Canadian
Government Railways:—
INTERCOLONIAL RAILWAY
PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND RAILWAY
[Illustration]
_CONTENTS_
Page
1. Introductory 5
2. Historic Quebec 28
3. Summer Resorts of the Lower St. Lawrence 68
4. Across the Base of the Gaspé Peninsula; and Some Superb Fishing
Streams 105
5. The Bay of Chaleur 120
6. The Miramichi River and Nashwaak Valley Districts 142
7. Fredericton, and the Upper St. John River 153
8. The City of St. John, and Lower St. John River 173
9. St. John to Moncton and Point du Chene 192
10. Prince Edward Island 203
11. Moncton to the Atlantic, over the Halifax Division 229
12. Halifax, an Ocean Gateway 246
13. Nova Scotia, North and East 260
14. Cape Breton Island 271
15. Where to Go—Recommended Places 299
[Illustration: Chateau Frontenac, Quebec]
_INTRODUCTORY_
[Illustration]
One glance at a map of the Western Hemisphere is all that is needed to
show the splendid situation of Eastern Quebec and the Maritime Provinces
of Canada as the natural summer recreation centres for the people of a
continent.
Communicating with the world’s greatest system of inland waterways;
washed by the salt spray of the rolling Atlantic; blessed with
innumerable lakes, majestic rivers, dashing waterfalls and sparkling
brooks; clothed with noble forests; featured by towering mountain
chains, and swept by cool health-bringing breezes—these delightful
domains are surely the summer provinces of all America.
Who has not read with fascination and delight the thrilling pages of
Canada’s romantic history; or has not been stirred with deep emotion
over the adventures of that trio of great explorers: Cabot, Cartier and
Champlain!
The desperate struggles of the early colonists with the savage Iroquois
Indians; the long and fluctuating conflict for supremacy between France
and Great Britain; the incursions of the New England Colonists; the
mixed settlement of Colonial Loyalists, French, English, Scotch and
Irish; the Acadian Expulsion—all have combined to make Quebec and the
Maritime Provinces a field that is rich in interest and quite unlike any
other part of the continent.
Here buried treasures of legend and story are on every hand, promising
rich reward to the happy discoverers.
[Illustration]
There is a fascination in seeing places where the people of long ago
have lived, and where epoch-making events have occurred; for there we
may learn at first hand and from personal observation many things that
cannot be read in the printed page.
[Illustration]
How delightful to stand where Jacques Cartier planted his symbolic cross
with its emblazoned shield bearing the royal lilies of France, and to
remember that here his banners were first unfurled to the breezes of
this western land. And while the loyal sons of St. Denis saluted the
fluttering flags as the guns were discharged in joyful salvo to mark the
birth of an empire beyond the seas did the wondering Indians understand
the full meaning of the ceremony, or realize that this handful of men
was but the advance guard of a mighty host propelled by a still mightier
force—the power of civilization—that would compel the poor “sons of the
forest” to give way before the irresistible onrush?
This sixteenth century invasion of Canada seems very remote to us; but
long before Columbus, Cabot or Cartier set foot on the Western
Continent, other Europeans had visited it.
From the first contact of the white man with his red brother, the
Aboriginal tribes living along the North Atlantic coast had well defined
and century-old traditions of a wonderful ship that had been cast ashore
manned by strange white men who were all drowned. In Norse history,
also, there is the Saga of Eric the Red relating to the discovery of the
east coast of North America, before the Christian Era was a thousand
years old. Whittier refers to this in his legendary verses, “The
Norsemen”:
“What sea-worn barks are those which throw
The light spray from each rushing prow?
Have they not in the North Sea’s blast
Bowed to the waves the straining mast?
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Onward they glide,—and now I view
Their iron-armed and stalwart crew,
Joy glistens in each wild blue eye,
Turned to green earth and summer sky;
Each broad, seamed breast has cast aside
Its cumbering vest of shaggy hide;
Bared to the sun and soft warm air,
Streams back the Norseman’s yellow hair.”
[Illustration: Riviere Ste. Anne]
The Vikings are believed to have had a fishing station at Gaspé in the
tenth century, and it is almost certain that in the few following
centuries Norman and Basque fishermen sailed up and down the waters of
the St. Lawrence.
But early history, although interesting to those who would know
something of the land in which they sojourn, is only a background for
the natural beauty and other material features of the provinces.
Beginning, therefore, with Quebec,—which although ocean-swept and
geographically maritime, is not one of the Maritime Provinces,—and
proceeding east, a brief survey is now made of New Brunswick, Prince
Edward Island, and Nova Scotia inclusive of Cape Breton.
[Illustration]
The Province of Quebec is highly diversified and mountainous, and full
of ever-changing pictures of great beauty. Its eastern borders are famed
for their fine highland scenery, picturesque lakes and romantic glens.
In many parts the scenery is majestic, with everything on a grand scale;
and the mountains, woods, lakes, rivers, precipices and waterfalls all
combine to make the country one of the grandest in the world. Canada’s
beautiful Mediterranean, the noble St. Lawrence, traverses the province
from south-west to north-east, and receives as tributaries the great
rivers Ottawa, Richelieu, St. Maurice and the Saguenay, as well as a
multitude of other rivers of considerable size.
“What river is this?”.....asked Cartier of his Indian pilot, when first
he sailed over the broad expanse of the St. Lawrence. With impressive
dignity came the reply, “A river that has no end.” How apt this
conception was is apparent when we remember that in its widest sense—for
the great lakes are but river beds of the Ice Age—the St. Lawrence
system is over 2200 miles long.
It is interesting to remember that all the early navigators sailed up
the St. Lawrence with the hope of thus reaching China and the Indies. It
was this quest for a direct western seaway to the Orient that led to the
discovery of the North American continent. Indeed, in Roman times and
many centuries before the Norse discovery of a thousand years ago,
Iberian shipping, bound west, is believed to have reached the St.
Lawrence as far as Tadousac and the Saguenay River. All of these daring
navigators believed that the Western shores reached by them were the
bold headlands of the Asiatic continent.
The value of Cabot’s discovery of the Western continent in early days—or
the niggardly character of the ‘royal’ Henry—may be inferred from the
following entry in the expenditure account, for the year 1497, still to
be seen in the British Museum: “August 10th........To hyme that founde
the new Isle........£10.”
The great Champlain, in his search for a western waterway to China,
penetrated as far as the lake in the State of New York that now bears
his name.
[Illustration]
There is such a wealth of scenic beauty in the Province of Quebec, and
such a delightful, old-time life is found in its many quaint villages,
that a tour in any part of the province is full of very pleasant
surprises. Without much imagination you may believe you are in a
province of Old France. Thoreau, the naturalist, thought it appeared as
old as Normandy itself, enabling him to realize much that he had heard
of Europe and the Middle Ages. When you leave the United States you
travel in company with the saints, for the names of villages such as St.
Fereol, Ste. Anne, The Guardian Angel, and of mountains such as Belange
and St. Hyacinthe are all along your route. The names “reel with the
intoxication of poetry”—Chambly, Longueuil, Pointe aux Trembles,
Bartholomy, etc. Like Thoreau you will “dream of Provence and the
Troubadours.”
The beauties of Tadousac, and the grandeur of the “Dread Saguenay, where
eagles soar”—will be of deep interest to all who reach Rivière du Loup
on the opposite shore by Intercolonial Railway, and who cross over on
the steamships of the Trans-St. Laurent Company.
There are few places in the world where such a delightful trip of
two-and-a-half hours can be taken across a great waterway. Probably the
best view of the whole north shore is that seen from here. The blue
water, the gorgeous clouds, the great mountain ranges and the ‘tang’ of
the sea air will ever be remembered.
“I saw the East’s pale cheek blush rosy red
When from his royal palace in the sky,
The sun-god, clothed in crimson splendor, came
And lit the torch of day with sudden flame,
While morning on white wings flew swiftly by
Bringing a message that the night was dead.”
Picturesque Tadousac,—with its delightful life—the tremendous chasms of
the Saguenay, the majestic capes, the noble mountain stream of the
Chicoutimi, the great lake of St. John, and the perpendicular cliffs and
roaring rapids of the Marguerite; all show nature in her grandest
aspect.
[Illustration]
All along the south shore of the St. Lawrence are numerous pleasant
summer resorts; and from Rivière Ouelle Junction on the Intercolonial
Railway the train may be taken to the riverside wharf from whence the
steamship Champlain makes a pleasant trip to the trio of splendid
resorts on the north shore: Murray Bay with its sublime Alpine scenery,
rugged Cap à l’Aigle, and charming St. Irénée.
And then Quebec, the old-world city, the capital of the province, the
historic centre of Canada and all America, the city of Wolfe and
Montcalm! Surely the thought of her glories brings a flush of pride to
the faces of French and British alike. No city in all America is more
famous than this.
“Near her grim citadel the blinding sheen
Of her cathedral spire triumphant soars,
Rocked by the Angelus, whose peal serene
Floats over Beaupré and the Lévis shores.”
Seen from the river, Quebec is noble, grand, and superb. Its cupolas,
minarets, steeples and battlements give it the appearance of an Oriental
city. Some find here a resemblance to Angoulême, Innspruck and
Edinburgh; and the surrounding scenery has been likened to the
unsurpassed views of the Bosphorus. The whole prospect of mountain,
river and citadel-capped city cannot be surpassed in any part of the
world.
The great interest excited by a near approach to the old capital is
heightened as one steps ashore, thrilled by the novelty and beauty of
all the surroundings. It is a city of striking contrasts; and full of
the quaint and curious sights that make Old World travel so delightful.
The environs, too, and the whole surrounding country are rich with
historic, romantic and picturesque interest.
It is related that a touring party in an automobile arrived recently at
Quebec at 8.30 in the morning. They had breakfast, ‘did’ the city and
surrounding country, had luncheon and were off for other parts by 1.30.
This is surely a ‘record’; but...... poor Quebec! or rather, poor
travellers! ........ for pity should be theirs.
A stay of a month will bring daily joys to the one that loves legend and
romance, and all that is quaint and beautiful. The walks and drives and
boating trips, the numerous pretty lakes, the fine rivers Chaudière and
Jacques Cartier, as well as the Ste. Anne and smaller streams, supply
constant incitement for healthful exercise; and above all there is the
story of Quebec that will call him daily in every direction to drink at
the fountain head of historic lore.
[Illustration: Trout Creek, Sussex]
If haply the visitor can remain for several months, he will find ample
occupation in this rich and inexhaustible locality; and if his
heart-chords are those of the poet, the scholar, the man of letters, the
artist, the soldier, the student, or the lover of the beautiful, he will
leave the city with deep regret; and with sad heart, a moist eye, and
broken utterance will the words “Farewell to dear Old Quebec” be said.
[Illustration: A Summer Camp]
In such a large, well-wooded and splendidly watered province as Quebec,
the facilities for camping, boating, hunting and fishing are some of the
best the world affords; and with a river as vast as an ocean, and
widening out grandly until it meets the Atlantic, there is an unlimited
choice of bathing and summer life at almost any reasonable temperature.
The peninsula of Gaspé, too, with its legends and tales of adventure, is
one of the world’s choicest fishing and hunting regions; while the far
northern shores of the River and Gulf of St. Lawrence are watered by
splendid rivers, with merely a fringe of settlement, so that the
untrodden interior will give real occupation for naturalists, sportsmen
and explorers for many a year to come.
In the sylvan province of New Brunswick none should go thirsty; for such
a prodigality of rivers, streams, cascades, brooks, rivulets and
springs, all sparkling like crystal, was never seen. In addition to its
network of waterways, the province borders on the great deep; so that
from any part of the interior it is easy to reach the St. Lawrence, the
Bay of Chaleur and the Bay of Fundy. Nearly all of the principal rivers
are intimately connected with each other, either by communicating
streams or short portages.
[Illustration]
De Monts and Champlain were the pioneer explorers who were sent by King
Henry IV. of France at the opening of the seventeenth century to
colonize Acadia, in which old-time domain New Brunswick was included.
Stirring events have taken place, and many a clash of arms has been
heard on the St. John River. The story of the gallant Charles La Tour
and his brave wife Frances, “the Heroine of Acadia,” is a thrilling one.
It is an episode of which all Canada is justly proud.
“But what of my lady?”
Cried Charles of Estienne:
On the shot-crumbled turret
Thy lady was seen:
Half-veiled in the smoke-cloud,
Her hand grasped thy pennon,
While her dark tresses swayed
In the hot breath of cannon!
* * * * *
Of its sturdy defenders,
Thy lady alone
Saw the cross-blazoned banner
Float over St. John.
[Illustration]
The St. John River is the chief member of that great system of lakes and
rivers that has won for this province the distinction of being “the most
finely watered country in the world.” It is one of the most delightful
waterways known, and it is questionable whether any part of America can
exhibit greater beauty than that seen in a cruise over its entrancing
waters. Steamers may navigate a hundred miles from its mouth, and canoes
may go up another hundred miles without other obstruction than an
occasional rapid.
The city of St. John is full of commercial and shipping activity, and is
the natural centre of a very extensive and attractive country. It enjoys
the proud distinction of having the great reversing fall, the only one
in the world.
The woods and rivers of New Brunswick are so famous that they lure
sportsmen and nature-lovers from all parts of the world. Who has not
heard of the Restigouche River? a truly noble and stately stream,
receiving a number of fine tributaries, and which has been termed “all
things considered, the finest fishing-river in the world.”
Then the enticing Upsalquitch, the murmuring Matapedia or “Musical
River,” the charming Miramichi River with its hills of verdure and
valleys of green, and the wild Nepisiguit, leading to a marvellous
hunting country; these rivers, with others, are Nature’s highways
leading to the haunts of bear, moose and caribou, and to pellucid depths
and sparkling falls where the lordly salmon struggles so bravely against
capture.
[Illustration]
This province is the natural home of the canoe, and to the native
Indians we owe that bird of the wave with its birch-bark wings. In every
direction towns, villages, lakes and streams are met that still retain
their musical Indian names. Who would wish them changed? Scattered
through the forests and by the side of many a river may be found the
obliging Micmac and Maliceet Indians, skilled in canoeing and woodcraft,
and with some of whom for guides delightful outdoor vacations may be
enjoyed.
“If thou art worn and hard beset
With sorrows that thou wouldst forget,
If thou would read a lesson that will keep
Thy heart from fainting, and thy soul from sleep,
Go to the woods and hills!—no tears
Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.”
Prince Edward Island was first named L’Isle St. Jean by Champlain when
he visited it in the early years of the seventeenth century. Cabot is
supposed to have called there some fifteen years earlier, but there is
no definite record of such a visit.
The Island is very pleasantly placed in the southern part of the Gulf of
St. Lawrence, and has deep water on every side. It was formerly covered
with dense forest growth, but this has nearly all been cut down, and the
whole island is under cultivation and is very fertile. It presents a
striking appearance on a near approach from the sea, because of its red
soil and the abundance of sandstone. The air is delightful, and the
climate somewhat milder than that of New Brunswick.
Prince Edward is the Rhode Island of Canada, for with a total population
of not one-third of that of Toronto, and much less than a fifth of that
of Boston, the little province is self-governing, and it has a governor,
a legislature and its own premier and cabinet, etc.
[Illustration]
This pleasant and sunny little isle is well provided with attractive
names. Because of its delightful situation, its balmy air and prolific
soil it is known far and wide as the “Garden of the Gulf.” Many of the
Micmac Indians made it their home in the early times, and from them has
come the beautiful name, musical as well as poetical, Abegweit or
“Resting on the Wave.”
[Illustration: A Prince Edward Island Beach]
“A speck of green in the restless sea,
Its edge girt around with red,
Fanned by the sea-breeze wand’ring free—
A clear blue sky o’erhead.”
There is a pastoral simplicity and freshness about the island that has a
fascination for those who visit its shores each year in such numbers.
The early settlement by French peasantry from Bretagne, Picardy and
Normandy, the Acadian French from Nova Scotia, and the English and
Scotch settlers who followed, all give the pleasant little towns and
villages an interesting character. There are good and safe harbors on
the south side; but on the north it is difficult to find one, unless it
be where:
[Illustration]
“When nearing home the reapers go,
And Hesper’s dewy light is born:
Or Autumn’s moonbeams soft and slow
Draw dials round the sheaves of corn,
Southward o’er inner tracts and far
Mysterious murmurs wander on—
The sound of waves that waste the bar,
The sandy bar by Alberton.”
The miniature rivers of the province have a character all their own; and
while the land is not one of “mountain and torrent,” the rippling
streams, wooded banks, and smiling verdure on every hand make walks,
drives, and boating and canoeing pastimes of happiness and delight.
Numerous and picturesque brooks and mill-streams are quite noticeable
features in journeying over the land; and artists, nature-lovers, and
those who admire the beautiful will surely linger in many a tranquil and
secluded spot on this happy “isle of the summer sea” to drink deep of
scenes that are both choice and unique.
“And one still pool as slow the day declines,
Holds close the sunset’s glory in its deeps
In colors that no mortal tongue could name.”
[Illustration]
Nova Scotia and Cape Breton may be termed the sea-walls of the Maritime
Provinces, for they are on the outer edge or Atlantic front where they
receive the first violent shock of the turbulent rollers that later
sweep into the Gulf and inner waters with rapidly lessening force, spent
and defeated after their struggle with the giant headlands of granite.
As would naturally be expected, the scenery gradually changes as Quebec
and Northern New Brunswick are left behind, not in the sense that it
deteriorates, however—it simply alters its character. There are
districts, such as the Wentworth Valley, that have become famous for
their loveliness; and, as is now well known, Cape Breton has a wild and
rugged beauty—like to that of the Scottish Highlands—that gives it a
first place in the estimation of many. Indeed, in relation to travel
interest generally, it is remarkable what great variety or diversity of
scene is found in going from one part to the other of the Maritime
Provinces. It may truly be said that each province has its own distinct
features of beauty, and those who go to one district for the mountains
will have their counterpart in others who will seek the sea and the open
shore.
[Illustration]
Over the cool green wall of waves advancing
Glistens a crested line of feathery foam,
Till along the beach the billows scatter, glancing
A mist of spray as over the waters comb,
Then fades the white-capped crest all slowly sinking
Where silent, shadowy sands are ever drinking, drinking.
Over the sea, miles out, a ship is riding,
Threading the ocean paths with oaken keel,
And under her bow the baffled waves are sliding
As over her sails the rising breezes steal,
And in her wake a foamy track is lying
As northward far she sails still flying, flying.
[Illustration: Canoeing on the East River, near New Glasgow]
[Illustration]
Nova Scotia proper—for Cape Breton, once a separate province, is now
included politically with the Atlantic peninsula—is almost an island,
being connected to New Brunswick by an isthmus that is only eight miles
wide in its narrowest part. It is well watered by rivers and lakes, and
has many fine harbors. The climate is mild and delightful, and makes it
one of the most desirable places in which to spend a summer. Although
there is no lack of sunshine, the Atlantic breeze is so refreshing, and
the Arctic current that sets in against the shore is so cooling that no
one can suffer from the heat. This gives a delightful stimulus to all
outdoor recreation and sport, for, no matter how active the employment,
there is no discomfort or lassitude as a result.
[Illustration: Regatta Day—North West Arm, Halifax]
The climate of this province is, therefore, a glorious natural heritage
of inestimable value; and, as the years go by, the truth of this
statement will become more and more apparent as the country becomes
better known by summer-suffering millions to the south.
This is the province where fine deep-sea fishing may be had at so many
places along the coast, and where the giant leaping-tuna, and huge,
darting swordfish may be caught—royal sport, indeed!
De Monts and Champlain enter into the history of the province, as do the
La Tours, father and son. Annapolis Royal, the old Port Royal of French
days, has been the scene of many a conflict in which French, English and
New England Colonials took part. The Acadian French were quite numerous
here previous to the time of their expulsion. It is a mistake, however,
to presume that the whole Acadian interest centres in one part of the
Bay of Fundy side of the province. Such is not the case; for Acadian
families and villages may be found in many parts of the Maritime
Provinces.
The City of Halifax—the Cronstadt of America—has become the Mecca for
annual thousands of visitors from all parts of the world. With its
quaint and old-time appearance, its military and naval interests, its
magnificent situation, its World-Harbor, its picturesque environs,
lakes, forests and grand water privileges for yachting and boating,
Halifax is unique as a centre of attraction. Moreover, it is the most
convenient place from which to start for excursions down the romantic
south-shore, as well as for the Annapolis Valley, and for all the great
fishing rivers and hunting districts that lie east between the Atlantic
and the line of the Intercolonial Railway, and extend as far as Guysboro
and the Strait of Canso.
Nor must the beautiful country around Truro, and east and west of it, be
forgotten; nor that along the northern water front of the province from
Tidnish to Tracadie, with all the restful shore places included in that
water-bow.
Nova Scotia is indeed a summer country, _par excellence_. It has
splendid woodland and a fine system of rivers and lakes. Go where you
will in any part of it and you are never more than thirty miles from the
shore. Sea life is, therefore, a prominent feature, and with all the
forms of recreation and amusement so bountifully provided, summer days
passed in the Atlantic province go all too quickly by.
[Illustration]
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar.”
Cape Breton was originally called L’Isle Royale by the French in the
time of the Grand Monarch, Louis XIV. Its history is an eventful one.
At Louisbourg on the east coast, once known as the Dunkirk of America,
titanic conflicts have taken place. Its fortifications erected there in
the early part of the eighteenth century, from plans by Vauban the
celebrated military engineer, took over twenty years in construction.
Citadel, massive stone bastions, a protective moat and huge gun
batteries once existed there; and powerful fleets have battled in front
of it for New-World supremacy.
As in other parts of the Maritime Provinces, the New England Colonials
have left their impress on the history of Cape Breton. Here, too, are
many Acadian settlements, made up of the descendants of those who fled
from the mainland while this land of refuge was still a French
possession.
[Illustration]
It would be difficult to find a summer climate more agreeable than that
of Cape Breton. The days are bright and sunny, tempered by cool and
refreshing sea-breezes. There is no scorching heat at any time, and it
affords a delightful contrast with the torrid conditions that prevail in
districts a few hundred miles to the south.
[Illustration: House Boat on the Bras d’Or Lake]
It is the land of the mountain and the sea, and has been aptly likened
to the Scottish Highlands in its general character.
“Two voices are there—one is of the sea,
One of the mountains—each a mighty voice.”
The great salt-water lake known as the Bras d’Or, or ‘Arm of Gold,’ runs
through the whole extent of the island, with many ramifications; and it
has connection with the Atlantic by two narrow channels. It is almost a
‘tideless ocean,’ for before the water can lower itself to any
appreciable extent, the Atlantic low tide has turned and is becoming
high again. It is therefore an ideal place for yachting and motor
boating; while in the pretty rivers and lagoons are found choice waters
for boating and canoeing.
Fine mountain ranges and magnificent scenery make Cape Breton a
delightful country for summer pleasures. A drive along the ‘Arm of
Gold,’ and in almost any part of the island, is a delightful experience.
Baddeck, Whycocomagh, Arichat, Louisbourg, the Sydneys, Ingonish and
Mabou, as well as the Margaree and Middle Rivers, are all places of
delight for vacationists. Fine forests of oak, birch, maple and ash,
with plenty of the woods more commonly seen, are here in great
profusion.
A climb up the great height of Old Smoky, the _Cap Enfumé_ of the
French, lands one almost in the clouds; and on a clear starlit night
when the moon is in the heavens, a view is spread out below that can
never be forgotten. The walks and drives in the lovely valleys, with
towering mountains ever visible—the white gypsum at their base—a
shimmery halo above; they, too, take a deep and fond hold on the memory.
[Illustration]
“Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near?
’Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.”
The Intercolonial Railway forms the greater part of the system known as
the Canadian Government Railways. With the road known as the Prince
Edward Island Railway, together with other shorter branch lines
gradually coming under Government control, to their betterment, the
whole system gives ready access to all of Central and Eastern Quebec and
the Maritime Provinces.
This system may truly be called the fairy godmother of the Maritime
Provinces, for with outstretched arm it has placed the five extended
fingers of a fostering hand over the important commercial centres of
Montreal, Quebec, St. John, Halifax and Sydney, causing them to pulsate
with life, and bringing them into intimate relation with the great
centres of the sister provinces from Atlantic to Pacific.
Merely to sit in one of the numerous comfortable trains, and observantly
tour the main line, is a novel experience, a revelation of beauty and an
education in itself; but if to that is added a sojourn in one or more of
the localities best suited for the individual preference of the
traveller, the result will be satisfactory and exhilarating.
While it is true, in a measure, that almost any part of the
Intercolonial summer country will amply satisfy all general requirements
for vacation pleasures, it should be remembered that an intelligent
choice should be made of a district that is rich in those things
essential for the enjoyment of those who intend going there.
To this end the present book has been written. It will be found accurate
and reliable; and a careful perusal of its contents will give full
information on all points of interest. Through its pages are distributed
Indian legends, Acadian tales, and stories of hunting, fishing, boating,
canoeing, and camp, tent and bungalow life, etc., embodied in the
description of the districts to which such incidents properly belong.
The natural history, or nature-interest, in animal, bird, fish and
wild-flower life is a feature of the book that must give pleasure to
those who go to a country like that described to enjoy life in the open.
A comprehensive index is also provided of events, subjects, districts,
places, persons and things. When the reader has completed the first
reading of the book, this index will afford ready means for turning to
those subjects that linger in the memory, that enlighten travel and that
enhance the pleasure of it; while as a practical and every-day guide for
things it is necessary to know, the same index is sure to be helpful in
looking up all necessary information from time to time.
[Illustration: All Aboard!]
Swinging through the forests,
Rattling over ridges,
Shooting under arches
Rumbling over bridges,
Whizzing through the mountains
Buzzing o’er the vale,—
Bless me! this is pleasant
Riding on the rail!
[Illustration: Soldier’s Monument, St. Louis Gate, Quebec]
_Historic Quebec_
[Illustration]
It is undoubtedly best to approach Quebec by way of the south shore; the
city, as is generally known, being on the north side of the St.
Lawrence. Whether coming from Montreal and the south-west, or St. John,
Halifax and the east, the Intercolonial Railway brings the traveller to
the most convenient point, Lévis, immediately opposite Quebec.
Here, taking one of the ferries, and with a seat under the awning of the
upper deck, a splendid view is had of the further shore as the steamer
makes its way across the river. No need to ask, “What place is this?” or
“Is this Quebec?” Such a question would be absurd, for here in all its
grandeur is the great St. Lawrence River, there clusters Quebec around
the grim old rock, and yonder, high up, where proudly floats the flag of
empire in the active breeze, is the King’s Bastion, with the old
citadel, the Château Frontenac and all the spires, peaks and towers that
make this place like an ancient picture from the Old World.
What a delightful experience it is to look upon sights and scenes that
are novel and beautiful, full of charming local color, and permeated
with that atmosphere of grandeur and power that quickens the pulse and
causes the thrill of emotion to telegraph its way through the nerve
centres. As soon as Quebec is approached it becomes immediately apparent
that it is rich in all those things that excite human interest; and if
the opinion of others is needed, the testimony of that galaxy of the
great, famous in geography, literature, science and art—that long
procession of renowned men and women that has taken its way hither in
unbroken pilgrimage through the past centuries—is all based on the one
majestic keynote of wonder, admiration, reverence and love for all that
Quebec typifies for the people of two hemispheres.
How pleasant to sit and view the magnificent prospect up and down the
noble river, and see the great mountains that tower and then disappear
in the distant blue haze. What glorious clouds; and what beautiful
effects of light and shade the bright sun paints on the broad outspread
canvas of nature that surrounds us! It needs but the sight of Quebec in
its grand setting of striking beauty and the simple melodies of the
people heard from violins and harp amidships, to transport the mind in a
delightful reverie of the past.
[Illustration]
In fancy we see the Henrys, the Edwards, Good ‘Queen Bess,’ James, poor
Charles, the sturdy Lord Protector, Cromwell, and all the long line of
crowned heads whose history is woven in with that of Eastern Canada. And
then the French King Francis, the two _Henri_, and the four _Louis_,
with Champlain, Jacques Cartier and Frontenac; the noble missionaries
who came here to teach the savage Indians—murdered, or burnt at the
stake for their devotion; the great captains, including England’s
Nelson, the brave soldiers down to Wolfe and Montcalm, and since; the
Norman and Basque peasant settlers, the _coureurs du bois_, the
buccaneers, privateers and adventurers; all these have figured in
Quebec’s remarkable history.
A bump at the landing dock recalls us to the present, and as we step
ashore it is with reverence akin to that which we feel when standing
under the towering Norman greatness of Durham Cathedral, or when in the
sacred precincts of Westminster Abbey where lie buried the genius and
achievement of centuries.
And now Quebec is reached, and some of the things that will ever be in
mind after this memorable visit are now before us; and weeks of happy
experiences are about to unfold their treasure to our admiring gaze.
There is no better way of understanding and appreciating what the old
city holds in store than that of first rambling about in every direction
on foot. With occasional car trips and with a drive now and again in a
_caleche_, the plan of the city and its environs becomes gradually
clear. The sight of the quaint streets and of the many old features that
are so novel on the new continent will be enjoyed because seen without
guide or premeditation. The process known to our English cousins as
‘knocking about,’ which is to saunter where you will, on foot and
without haste, is the best way in Old Quebec. It is on foot that
terrestrial things are seen intimately, and when we have made a dozen
‘rounds’ of the lower town, walked along the ramparts again and again,
rambled in the citadel, promenaded on Dufferin Terrace, quenched our
thirst at the Frontenac, climbed the glacis, walked the parapets, viewed
the majestic scene from the King’s Bastion, sauntered over the Plains of
Abraham, and circled the city until every spot is known; then, and not
until then, shall we drink in enough of the atmosphere, and be in a
condition to take an intelligent view of all that surrounds us, awaiting
the keen examination that cannot be made in a hasty or superficial
manner.
[Illustration]
Of the general appearance of Quebec it will be enough to quote from the
words of three of its famous visitors. Thoreau wrote: “I rubbed my eyes
to be sure I was in the nineteenth century.” Dickens recorded: “The
impression made upon the visitor by this Gibraltar of America, its giddy
heights, its citadel suspended, as it were, in the air; its picturesque,
steep streets and frowning gateways; and the splendid views which burst
upon the eye at every turn, is at once unique and lasting;” while Henry
Ward Beecher set down these as his impressions: “Curious, old
Quebec!...... of all the cities on the continent of America, the
quaintest...... We rode about as if we were in a picture book, turning
over a new leaf at each street!”
A brief survey of the history of New France, or Eastern Canada, is a
necessary preliminary for the full enjoyment of all those things for
which Quebec is famed.
Commissioned by Henry VII. of England, Cabot sailed west in search of a
route to China and India, and discovered America. This new land he set
down as the coast of China. The discovery was not immediately followed
up by further exploration or settlement, and not until the year 1534 did
Jacques Cartier, the St. Malo navigator, make a voyage of discovery for
the French sovereign Francis I. The intrepid sailor succeeded in
reaching the western continent, or New France, and landed at Gaspé,
where he erected a cross with an inscription on it claiming the country
for the King of France.
Winter approaching, he made his way home again. Before leaving he had
entrapped two natives, and these he took with him as evidence of his
success.
In the year 1535 Cartier made a second western voyage, and this time he
sailed up the great river which he named the St. Lawrence. At that time
the fish were so plentiful that the progress of the little flotilla of
three tiny ships was often greatly impeded. Bears, also, were very
numerous, and quite expert in catching the fish for their food. It was a
common sight to see Bruin plunge into the water, fasten his claws in a
great fish and drag it ashore.
[Illustration]
The native Indians were also seen, in canoes, hunting seals and catching
white whales. Alarmed by the approach of the strange men in their
marvellous vessels, the savages paddled off with haste; but on being
addressed in their own tongue by the two returned captives on Cartier’s
vessel, they abandoned their flight and returned to gaze with
astonishment and child-like wonder at all they saw.
Cartier was informed of the existence of an Indian village of
considerable size at Stadacona, quite near to Quebeio or Quelibec, and
there he met the great chief Donnacona, the ‘Lord of Canada.’
There is no complete agreement on the origin and meaning of the name
‘Quebec.’ Some have traced its derivation from the word ‘Kepek,’ the
aboriginal equivalent for ‘come ashore,’ supposed to have been addressed
to Jacques Cartier when he hove-to near Stadacona. Others have surmised
that it sprang from the exclamation of a Norman sailor on first seeing
the great cape—“Quelbec!” (“What a cape!”) Again, the Abenaquis word
‘Quelibec,’ meaning ‘narrowing’ or ‘closed,’ is supposed to be the real
derivation; while a very strong claimant for recognition is the Indian
word ‘Kebeque,’ which means ‘a narrowing of the waters.’
Learning of another large native village on the St. Lawrence, a
considerable distance above Stadacona, Jacques Cartier determined to
proceed there with one of his vessels. The chief Donnacona, a shrewd old
savage, did not favor further penetration of his domains, and calling to
his aid some of his tribe dressed as ‘devils,’ he hoped to frighten the
bold navigator with the frightful whoopings and noisy invocation to the
demons who were supposed to inhabit the forests.
[Illustration]
Cartier pushed on, however, and leaving his vessel near the place now
known as St. Maurice, and proceeding in the ship’s boats, reached
Hochelaga, the site of the present Montreal. The village was circular in
form, with a strong palisade surrounding it. The one entrance was well
guarded by removable barriers, and platforms were erected inside from
which stones could be showered on possible assailants. The square or
assembly-ground was in the centre, having grouped around it the
birch-bark wigwams or houses. Their weapons and implements were of rock,
and their simple life was communal.
The impression made by the advent of the white-faced men from another
land had a pathetic side; for the diseased and blind were carried out
from their rude shelters in order that the great White Chief should cure
their infirmities by the ‘laying on of hands.’ But alas! the white man
was not divine—and the poor Indians were consoled by presents of
hatchets, knives and beads, etc., followed by the thrilling sound of a
‘flourish of trumpets.’
During Cartier’s absence a fort and winter camp had been constructed at
Stadacona by his men, the site of which may be seen on the River St.
Charles. Cartier gave the name of Mount Royal to the mountain
overlooking Hochelaga village, and this name has survived in the
Montreal of Canada’s commercial capital.
Early next Spring Cartier, and all the remnant of his band that survived
after a severe attack of scurvy, sailed for France. A serious blemish in
Cartier’s character is shown by the record of his having carried off by
force—torn from their homes and country—poor old Donnacona, ‘Lord of
Canada,’ and other chiefs. They died in captivity, far from their kin,
and with the sad memory of their great river and noble forests ever with
them to the end.
Cartier returned to New France a third time after some five years; but
the seed of distrust was sown in the minds of the natives by the absence
of their stolen chiefs, and it was not long before the fruit of hatred
and strife developed and gradually grew until it steeped the country in
continual war and bloodshed. Cartier again set out to proceed up the
river to Hochelaga, but finding the natives had been warned and were
becoming hostile he turned back to Stadacona. He eventually returned
with Roberval to France, and died in his native St. Malo about the
middle of the sixteenth century.
It is interesting to learn that Roberval’s titles were Viceroy and
Lieutenant-General of Canada, Hochelaga, Saguenay, Newfoundland,
Belleisle, Labrador and Baccalaos.
France was now seeing stormy times in her home affairs, and no
well-directed effort was made to follow up Cartier’s work—although other
explorers and fur-traders crossed the stormy seas in their endeavor to
make a settlement in the New World.
[Illustration: QUEBEC]
1. Montmorency Falls
2. City Hall Park
3. Chateau Frontenac
4. Government House, Spencer Wood
5. Boating on the Lorette
6. Upper Fall, Montmorency
[Illustration]
At last the brave and capable Champlain sailed from Harfleur in 1608,
and reached Stadacona or Kebec in safety. Here at the foot of the rock
where the quaint street Sous le Fort has since been made, a settlement
was laid out which Champlain called ‘l’Abitation de Kébec,’ and which
consisted of three lodgings and a store-house, all fenced in and
surrounded by a ditch.
Champlain made several trips to France, each time bringing back
missionary-priests and settlers. He built, a fort on the height above
his ‘Abitation,’ on the spot where his statue has since been erected.
The little colony commenced to grow, and soon numbered some fifty
people. And now began the troubles that were to shake the infant
settlement, rumblings of more desperate encounters, for a hostile
British fleet arrived, and Quebec was compelled to capitulate. Champlain
again sailed for France, where he remained until Charles I. of England
gave back Quebec to King Louis.
The founder of Quebec at last, returned to the beloved home of his
adoption, where the work of building had to be done a second time—fire
having destroyed both ‘Abitation’ and fort, as well as other buildings.
With energy and skill, supported in the main by the love and esteem of
his fellow colonizers, Champlain toiled on; his noble character showing
in all he did. To keep on good terms with the neighboring Algonquins and
Hurons he took part in their struggles with the fierce Iroquois, and
penetrated inland as far as the Georgian Bay and southern shore of Lake
Ontario. The greatest vigilance was now more than ever necessary, for
the savage Iroquois crossed the great lakes in their war canoes, came
down the St. Lawrence and lurked in the woods, ever ready to cut off and
scalp the French when found in small numbers. In addition, the
inexperienced Colonists were quite unprepared for the severe winters,
and they were often on the verge of starvation.
Other serious troubles came. The British appeared in naval force, and
again Quebec capitulated—Champlain being taken to England as a prisoner
of war.
The political kaleidoscope now took another turn, and Quebec was once
more given back to France by Charles I. of England.
[Illustration]
For the last time Champlain again returned to Quebec, this time as
governor, and his customary energy was shown in all that related to the
welfare of the colony. In the fulness of time, rewarded by the success
of his labors and beloved by his fellows, the great man breathed his
last. He is justly considered to have been the ablest and best of all
the early explorers and governors.
The new governor Montmagny was a worthy and capable man. He greatly
improved Quebec and commenced the stone construction of Fort
Saint-Louis. It is interesting to note that during his incumbency the
Jesuits built their college. It was commenced in the year 1638, which
makes it the oldest institution of learning in North America, antedating
Harvard College by one year. A few years after this the Château
Saint-Louis was built within the walls of the fort.
Frontenac next ruled the destinies of Quebec with a firm hand. Excepting
Champlain he was perhaps the ablest governor, although his character was
marred by arrogance and sell-will. He, perhaps better than any,
understood how to hold the Indians in check. The brave d’Ibberville ably
seconded the aggressive governor during his second term of
office—recalled to stem the victories of the Iroquois and to repel the
threatened attack on Quebec by a British fleet. This fleet arrived and
anchored off the Isle of Orleans. To the haughty summons from Admiral
Phipps, to surrender within an hour, came the proud reply of Frontenac,
“It is through the mouth of my guns that your general will hear my
reply.” The attack was a failure—so well did the guns talk. After that
the able Frontenac strengthened the defences of Fort Saint-Louis to such
an extent as to convert it into a real citadel.
[Illustration]
Towards the close of the seventeenth century Frontenac passed away. The
troubles of Quebec were not by any means ended. A great army and fleet
under the British Admiral Walker was sent out to reduce and occupy
Quebec. In going up the St. Lawrence River during a dense log, a number
of the transports were wrecked on Egg Island. More than a thousand men
were drowned. This calamity saved the threatened city, for the officers
of the expedition became disheartened and abandoned the project.
[Illustration: Governor’s Garden, Quebec]
As a sequel to that terrible loss of life in the great outer waters of
the St. Lawrence there has survived one of those traditions of which the
story of ‘The Flying Dutchman’ is the prototype. In the words of Moore:
“There lieth a wreck on the dismal shore
Of cold and pitiless Labrador
Where, under the moon upon mounts of frost,
Full many a mariner’s bones are tossed.
Yon shadowy bark hath been to that wreck
And the dim blue fire that lights her deck
Doth play on as pale and livid a crew
As ever yet drank the churchyard dew.
To Deadman’s Isle in the eye of the blast,
To Deadman’s Isle she speeds her fast;
By skeleton shapes her sails are furl’d,
And the hand that steers is not of this world!”
The Treaty of Utrecht brought peace to France and Great Britain in a
division of the land for which they had contended. It was agreed that
Canada, Isle Royal (Cape Breton) and l’Isle St. Jean (Prince Edward
Island) should belong to France; while Great Britain received Nova
Scotia, Newfoundland and the Hudson Bay Territory.